


Cold Comforts (The Uncomfortable Remix)

by embroiderama



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Military, Pre-Canon, Skiing, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve McGarrett experienced snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Comforts (The Uncomfortable Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trinaest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinaest/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cold Comfort](https://archiveofourown.org/works/168119) by [trinaest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinaest/pseuds/trinaest). 



**1) Aspen, Colorado - 1988**

His dad didn't come on the trip--of course, because criminals don't take time off for Christmas break--so Steve got on the plane with his mom and Mary Ann, and they flew across the ocean, over California, right into the snowy mountains. The cold bit at him as soon as they stepped outside the airport, sneaking under the hems of his jeans, cutting through the seams of the coat he'd thought was so heavy when he tried it on at home. At the hotel, they all got big puffy skiing outfits--teal for Mom, bright pink for Mary Ann, navy blue for Steve--and he and Mary Ann got rented ski boots and skis and poles. Mom had her own set, pulled out of the attic, cleaned and waxed and packed into a bag for the plane. Steve had never seen them before in his life.

He was twelve, old enough to be on his own, so Mom took Mary Ann off to play on the baby hills and signed Steve up for a lesson. He wasn't sure at first, what to do with a wave that was frozen, water all fluffy and cold and still, propped up on the earth rather than dancing above it. Then he found the speed, wind in his face, his body thrumming with the thrill of danger. Wiping out hurt just about the same as it ever did, but Steve didn't mind. He just got up off the snowy ground and ran back to the lift. The ride up was awesome, and then he hopped off and flew down the mountain again, finding the balance in his body, the push of his skis against the snow.

His face burned by the end of the day, red from wind and sun, and Mom made him stay in the next morning, made him watch Mary Ann while she went off to ski on her own, but Steve didn't mind. It was warm inside, and he thought that hot chocolate might be his new favorite food.

 **2) Annapolis, Maryland - 1996**

They were running through the snow, slogging through it, stomping it into slush. It was a punishment and a dare, and none of them were pussying out before they get back to the dorm. Still, Steve's shoes were soaked, and freezing water was seeping up from the cuffs of his sweats. The day itself was warm, sun working with them to melt the thick layer of snow over the academy grounds, making him sweat under his shirts, wet and uncomfortable all over.

Of course, it wasn't the first snow he'd seen since he got to Annapolis. It snowed often enough during the winter, dusting the ground, accumulating in a light layer on the grass, melting from the roads and paths as soon as first light hit it. That morning, when he woke up to his roommate whooping and babbling about snow days, he looked outside and thought about Colorado and skiing, how much fun it had been that one time. And then he thought about Mom, how long she'd been gone, how long it had been since he'd seen Mary Anne, and how weird was that--that thinking about snow pushed him into the barrel of a wave of homesickness and grief.

But there wasn't any time for dwelling on the past, not when Steve needed to stay in the top of his class. He was halfway to graduation, and if he wanted the best chance of getting into SEAL training he had to keep his eyes on the prize. He'd planned on starting the day with a long run to make up for some training hours he'd missed earlier in the week. With the weather he could probably beg out of it, but there was no way. He'd do it, but he wouldn't do it alone.

An hour later, coffee and fruit from the cafeteria fueling them, Steve hit the trail with half a dozen other guys. The path was broken by just one set of running footprints, fresh in the otherwise clean snow, and as Steve pushed to the front of the pack he imagined he was chasing somebody down, tracking them across the tundra or something. It kept his mind off the squish of his socks and the cold ache in his feet and ankles.

At the end of the trail, five miles of snow pounded into water by their feet, they headed straight back to the cafeteria for a second breakfast--rubbery pancakes and eggs well-earned. The snow, some of it, hung around for days, blanketing the grass and the shady spots until rain came to wash it all away. Steve didn't know where he'd end up posted once he graduated from the academy, but he hopes it would be someplace warm.

 **3) Undisclosed location - 2004**

Tracking their target led them into the north, warm sand giving way to hard-packed ground and, as the elevation rose, deepening snow. They didn't have the right gear for it, but nobody on Steve's team was willing to turn back, risk losing any chance of bringing their target to justice. When the road crapped out, they had to pursue on foot, moving through the dense snow alongside the ruined road, trying to stay out of sight.

Steve started to feel like he was in one of the World War II movies his father used to watch on lazy Sunday afternoons, only with the wrong kind of vegetation. He found himself wanting things like shelter halves and white camouflage for his weapons, boots that were made for warmth more than ventilation. His fingers ached for gloves, but there was nothing to do but keep moving, keep the blood flowing, hope that the call for reinforcements had gone through, that transportation and better supplies were on their way.

By the time reinforcements showed up twenty hours later, they had the target in custody and mild hypothermia all around. In the transport out, they huddled in silver space blankets and eased their frozen boots off their feet, peeling sodden socks away from ice-cold feet. They were lucky, mostly. Devon spent a while on sick leave, lost the tips of two toes to frostbite, but that was his own fault for not replacing damaged boots before the mission.

Warming up in his temporary quarters, enough miles south that the snow didn't seem like it could be real anymore, Steve couldn't imagine why anybody would choose to go out into the white stuff when there wasn't national security on the line. Frozen water wasn't fun; surfing was fun, the water warm and liquid the way it was supposed to be. He breathed in warm air and curled tighter in his nest of blankets. Imagining himself paddling out on his old board, the swell of waves under his belly, he fell asleep.

 **4) Hackensack, New Jersey - 2011**

The concept of playing in the snow seemed insane to Steve. Sure, he could remember skiing being fun, but that was a sport. And it involved gear--pants and jackets made just for skiing, poles and skis and boots and goggles--equipment to protect a person against all that cold, white stuff. But this? Just bundling up in an extra layer of street clothes and meeting the snow with some random piece of plastic or rubber? It was insanity.

Danny was all smiles as they trudged down the street, following a trail of adult and child-size footprints left in the snow on the sidewalk until they got to the rear of the local middle school. A steep hill led from the back of the building down to the sports fields, and people were lined up at the top, holding plastic disks and inner tubes, sleds and plastic bags. It looked dangerous as hell but Steve couldn't help himself--it looked like fun.

The inner tube Danny had dug up from his parents' garage was taut with air, and as soon as Steve sat down in it he started skidding on the packed-smooth surface of the snow. "You ready?" Danny asked, but he didn't wait for an answer, just bent over and shoved. The tub slid slowly at first, but then the incline of the hill sharpened, and sweet adrenaline flooded Steve's body as the ground dropped out beneath him and he flew. He surprised himself with a shout as he landed with a bump at the bottom of the hill and spun out on the flat field.

He ran back up the hill, digging his heels in for traction, and let Danny take his turn with the tube. Danny whooped like a kid as he went down the hill, and Steve smiled so hard his face hurt. After a few solo trips down the hill, they borrowed a two-man sled and went down the hill together. Danny's ass was tucked up between Steve's legs, even if he could barely feel it through the layers of fabric, and with their combined weight they went down the hill fast, riding that slick, frozen wave, hands gripping each other's legs as they slid out far into the field, yards past the rest of the sleds. Just the two of them, full of joy and surrounded by white. It was all Steve could do not to pull Danny around and kiss him there in front of half the neighborhood.

 **5) The Bathroom - 30 minutes later**

The only snow was on their clothes, enough crusted into their pants and jackets to make a very small snow man, melting into the rubber-backed bath mat. The room itself was shocking warm against their cold skin, hot water running in the shower filling the air with steam before they finished undressing. Danny was a sight--skin bright pink as he peeled away his frozen clothes, round ass red like he'd been spanked.

They stumbled into the shower together, and the hot water was a shock, burning on cold skin. Steve jerked away from it, but Danny's hands on him were gentle, soothing him through until the burn mellowed into a delicious warmth. Danny turned them under the water, moving himself more into the direct spray, and they washed up, soaping each other's skin, fingers traveling over slick planes and curves. As they rinsed off, Steve leaned into Danny's sturdy weight, dizzy in the humid heat.

Getting out of the bathtub was almost a disaster, their legs tangling together in their haste to get to the bedroom before their time alone in the house ran out. Steve was achingly hard, and the accidental brush of his cock against Danny's side was a tease, almost too much for his brain, worn out as it was by cold and the departed rush of adrenaline, the lazy heat of the shower. Danny's head seemed clearer, so Steve let him take control, leading him to the bedroom, pulling him down to the bed.

There was no time for anything fancy, no need. On the bed, their height difference was all but negated. Their legs twined together, cocks slipping against each other, hands brushing skin, the taste of Danny's neck under his tongue. Steve felt the pleasure inside him building like a wave, warm water swelling up to crash on the beach, driving away every trace of cold. He found his balance on the bed, ground down against the curve of Danny hip bone and came, gasping in Danny's ear, Danny's ragged breath warm on his cheek.

"Please don't make me go out in the snow again," he murmured, eyes closed, exhaustion holding him down to the bed.

"Shut up," Danny said, "you loved it."

Steve couldn't bring himself to argue.


End file.
